


Letting Go

by jamlockk



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom John, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, M/M, Smut Sunday prompt, They're just so in love, Top Sherlock, switchlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7377652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamlockk/pseuds/jamlockk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should’ve felt weird, but it didn’t, John thought distractedly as Sherlock’s fingertips danced across his chest. His husband’s hushed sigh of pleasure as he dragged his hand gently down to John’s waistband set an affectionate warmth alight between them. John smoothed up Sherlock’s arms and wound his fingers into dark curls. </p><p>“Soft, so soft,” he sighed, not realising he’d spoken aloud. Sherlock’s throaty chuckle as he worked John’s shirt buttons open and started in on his jeans made John desperate for another kiss. He tried to grip Sherlock’s hair and tilt his head up to claim that mouth but Sherlock stopped him with a press of lips to his sternum. </p><p>“No,” Sherlock murmured, “you are mine to please tonight, John. Let go, let me please you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Irrevocably_Sherlocked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irrevocably_Sherlocked/gifts).



> Based on a tumblr prompt from my dear Snoggy who wanted switchlock and Sherlock in control. Hope this works for you, marshmallow.

It should’ve felt weird, but it didn’t, John thought distractedly as Sherlock’s fingertips danced across his chest. His husband’s hushed sigh of pleasure as he dragged his hand gently down to John’s waistband set an affectionate warmth alight between them. John smoothed up Sherlock’s arms and wound his fingers into dark curls. 

“Soft, so soft,” he sighed, not realising he’d spoken aloud. Sherlock’s throaty chuckle as he worked John’s shirt buttons open and started in on his jeans made John desperate for another kiss. He tried to grip Sherlock’s hair and tilt his head up to claim that mouth but Sherlock stopped him with a press of lips to his sternum. 

“No,” Sherlock murmured, “you are mine to please tonight, John. Let go, let me please you.”

The words breathed into his skin made John tremble as he nodded, mouth forming soundless cries of delight, eyes sliding shut as Sherlock slipped first his shirt then his jeans off. He lowered John onto the bed on his back, still kissing every inch of bare skin. Sherlock slid off the bed and langourously removed his own clothes. John hardly had time to appreciate the view when Sherlock was lying across him, a warm, heavy weight pressing him into the covers. Sherlock kept up his gentle assault on John’s skin, his lips just brushing over a nipple, then sucking a light bruise into the crest of his hip. 

John gasped and arched up into the contact,his hands finding Sherlock’s hair again and trying to speed things up, take control. Sherlock wasn’t having any of it. He looked up, his eyes pleading with John to give him this, to follow instead of lead. To let the simple joy of being in one another’s arms like this carry him through. 

“Only for you,” John whispered, “only you, Sherlock.” 

“John,” came the reply, and John let go. 

Sex had never been like this. John had always held back part of himself, unwilling to be utterly exposed. But he had no choice with Sherlock, and he didn’t want one. He meant it when he said it; only Sherlock could draw him fully into anything and everything - in bed, on cases, just lounging around the flat. The bone-deep love John felt for Sherlock terrified and delighted him. He could no more refuse to give all of himself to Sherlock than he could refuse to breathe. 

John could already feel sensation cresting in his abdomen as Sherlock continued to stroke his entire body as if it were made of a most precious metal. He shivered and let his hands rest on Sherlock’s shoulders, not guiding or directing, just allowing him that contact with the man sharing his pleasure. 

Sherlock’s unhurried pace was winding it tighter and tighter, and John fought not to just flip them over and suck Sherlock down to the root, tugging himself furiously as Sherlock screamed and came down John’s throat.  
No, as much fun as that would be, John wanted what Sherlock wanted to give him. He would writhe and gasp as Sherlock’s tongue teased his leaking slit. He would cry out when Sherlock smoothly and surely licked a path towards his entrance. He would let time drag out, let himself be carried away in the feeling of Sherlock slowly preparing him. Those lovely fingers, slick and soft, circling and pressing just enough, entering him so sweetly, Sherlock crooking his finger until-

John’s hips jerked and he grabbed the sheets in his fists, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he bathed in Sherlock’s attentions. Two now, Sherlock had two fingers inside him now and John was sure he was babbling and begging but Sherlock wouldn’t just hurry the fuck up and oh God, three, three of those gorgeous, talented fingers were taking him apart now. 

“Please, Sherl- ah!” John whispered, uncaring of how he sounded. He opened his eyes and looked down at Sherlock’s fingers disappearing into his body. Sherlock raised his head and their eyes met. John couldn’t stand it any longer; Sherlock looked wrecked. His eyes were almost black with desire, his face flushed, those full lips parted in an “o” of adoration. 

“Please,” John entreated, and Sherlock finally, finally began to push in. He kept his pace slow and John released the sheets from his sweaty grasp to tangle in Sherlock’s curls again. Sherlock obliged him with lovely, light kisses and then he was fully seated. 

“John,” he said, his tone reverent and tinged with amazement. 

“I know love, I know,” John told him. Every time, it was an affirmation for them both, however they were joined. 

Their mouths met, uncoordinated and wet, as Sherlock started to move. The delicious drag inside John drove him even higher, Sherlock’s every thrust, his every pant, his every touch singing in John’s veins. John dragged his nails lightly down Sherlock’s sweaty back and swallowed the resulting gasp of pleasure in a kiss. 

Sherlock broke the kiss to lean up on one elbow, his other hand snaking down between them to wrap around John’s aching erection. 

“Come for me, John,” he breathed, “come for me now.”

Sherlock’s hand twisted as he gave one particularly powerful thrust against John’s prostate and John was lost. His orgasm burst from him, making him clench around Sherlock and shout his pleasure to the bedroom ceiling. He heard Sherlock cry out as well, a stuttered yell of his name, then there was a hot pulsing sensation within him as Sherlock reached his climax. Exhausted, sweaty and so deeply in love, they collapsed into one another’s arms again. 

Presently Sherlock sat up and carefully pulled out of John’s sensitive hole, before fetching a warm flannel from the bathroom and cleaning them both up. John beckoned his husband back to bed and Sherlock eagerly snuggled in beside him, their customary cuddling position with John on his back and Sherlock tucked into his side, his head on John’s chest and curls tickling John’s chin. 

Sherlock sighed and wriggled closer, and John wrapped his arm more tightly around Sherlock’s shoulders, pressing kisses into his hair. 

“I love you, John,” Sherlock mumbled. 

“I love you too,” John replied, ignoring the moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes. Sherlock snuffled happily and John’s eyelids felt heavy. He let them fall shut. As he began to doze, wrapped in the warmth of his love, he thought dreamily that it was definitely worth it to let Sherlock take control once in a while.


End file.
